


Widowmaker's Special Crème

by TiffyB



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Corruption, Creampie, F/F, Futanari, Gen, Girl Penis, Mind Manipulation, Other, Rape/Non-con Elements, Teasing, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-01
Updated: 2021-02-01
Packaged: 2021-03-18 15:55:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29120799
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TiffyB/pseuds/TiffyB
Summary: Widowmaker has captured Tracer, but the Talon operative has other plans for the spunky pilot...-A Commissioned Story
Relationships: Lena "Tracer" Oxton/Widowmaker | Amélie Lacroix
Comments: 8
Kudos: 62





	Widowmaker's Special Crème

**Author's Note:**

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“Now, where were we?” Widowmaker smirked as she traced her finger along the bound woman’s chest, toying with the white metal of the chronal accelerator. She ran the digit along the circular rim that had been glowing blue just moments before.

“You’ll never get away with this!” the spunky pilot sneered as she fought against the braided, steel rope around her wrists. “The others will find me!”

The smug Talon agent chuckled as she threw the rope over a construction girder and pulled. Tracer’s arms immediately rose and she was barely able to steady herself on her tip-toes. The assassin fastened the other end in place with a pulley in case she needed to adjust her captive’s positioning.

“Ahh, ma chérie,” Widow wistfully sighed and closed her eyes as she relived the sweetest memory, “Such hope. Such optimism. You really think my plan is to kidnap you, hm? And you believe those fools can find you? Have they found the others yet?”

Tracer’s eyes widened as she considered the alternative. But it didn’t make sense. “You had plenty of time to kill me, Widow—if that was your plan you’d have done it already!” she cockily smirked.

“I have no interest in Tracer,” the assassin was still all smiles as she approached the bound woman. “Tracer is a silly girl, bound to a stupid sense of justice and fair play.” The French woman scoffed and made a spitting sound of distaste. “But Lena,” Widow’s smirk returned more sinister than ever, “Lena is a girl I wish to know… So cute, so fun, so care-free…”

“What are you on about?” the English girl glared, feeling extremely uncomfortable all of a sudden. She tugged on the expertly tied ropes around her wrists to no avail. “What is Talon up to?”

“Talon?” Widow shrugged. “They have their raison d’etre and I have mine. Sometimes they overlap nicely. But in this case? Non. Not exactly. They simply want Overwatch out of the way and I’m more than happy to oblige. But,” the cold-blooded assassin held up a finger, dramatically suggesting to her captive to wait for the punchline, “they did not tell me how to do it…!”

Tracer blinked, still completely unsure of where this was headed. “Where are the others?! What have you done to them?!”

“Ahh,” Widowmaker sighed again before circling the bound woman. “I’m enjoying this far too much. Maybe I should tell you where they are. Would you like that, Lena?” The French assassin ran her fingers along the small of Tracer’s back, the digit stopped at the crack of the girl’s ass. She admired the way her tight, orange suit clung to her body.

The captive woman winced at the unwanted touch, but slowly nodded. “Y-yes, please.” If she could at least find out where her friends were being held then there was at least some hope if she could free herself. She would just have to play along with Widowmaker’s twisted game for a bit.

“And now, so curious and obedient. I was hoping for your fiery resistance the whole way through, but c’est la vie.” She sighed and gave Tracer’s pert ass a gentle slap, which was just enough to push her off balance. The pressure on her wrists increased as she desperately stretched to stabilize herself as the assassin moved in front of her.

“Your friends?” she paused, her lingering gaze focused on the lower portion of Tracer’s body. “I took them… merely for fun. They pale in comparison to you, ma chérie. Some of them,” she paused and winced, as if it were a difficult subject, “they broke so easily. I had to ask myself… why would they be in Overwatch if they are so weak?”

“What does that mean?” Tracer cautiously asked.

“That they’re broken? Oh,” the assassin languished, enjoying the theatrics and suspense, “They live only for my special crème. They simply can’t get enough. Especially that chubby scientist. You know her? The Chinese one, no?”

“M-mei?” Tracer perked up, wondering what had happened to the pure and innocent recruit. “What have you done to her?”

“Is that her name? I forget to ask and then it’s too late. But, she fought harder than your good doctor. Mercy? Ah,” she smirked and took another deep breath, “she practically threw herself at me once I revealed myself to her.”

“Angela? N-no! She’d never surrender!” the English girl shook her head in disbelief.

Widow chuckled as she turned her back to Tracer. The brunette was confused at first, especially as she watched the Talon agent slowly peel the skin tight suit from her shoulders, bringing more attention to her toned back and the tattoo upon it. Lena couldn’t deny there was a certain appeal to the assassin’s curves, although she’d certainly never willingly admit it. She held her breath as the tight bodysuit stopped at the French woman’s wide hips. A light blush spread over Tracer’s cheeks as her vision darted away, only to constantly be drawn back to the assassin’s rear.

Widow bent over at the waist with unmatched poise as she unbuckled her boots. The English girl was fully fixated on the woman’s ass while thoughts of nuzzling her face against that rear invaded her mind. Tracer’s cheeks burnt as she quickly glanced away again while the refined assassin stood back up. She raised one heel toward her rear while masterfully keeping her balance to tug the boot off and toss it aside. Planting her bare foot against the ground, she flexed her toes for a moment as she switched her balance to that leg and repeated the process.

The assassin glanced over her shoulder, seductively smirking before winking at her captive. “Are you enjoying the view?” The bound girl still blushed, but made it extra apparent she wasn’t looking as she turned her head to the side, even though she still stole glances from the corner of her vision. Widow slid her fingers underneath the tight, stretchy fabric of her bodysuit and she took her time sliding it down her wide, curvaceous hips. Tracer held her breath as the French woman’s round, bubbly ass came into view.

She bent over yet again as she pulled the outfit down her perfectly formed legs. Just the faintest view of the assassin’s dark blue pucker was given from between Widow’s ass cheeks. Lena was so mesmerized by the sight that she hardly even realized she was staring until the French woman turned around to face her once more.

At that point, Tracer blinked and furrowed her brow in confusion. “What n’ the flippin’ hell? Wh-what is that? A-and, how?”

Widowmaker only sighed as she spread her legs a bit, letting the rather massive length of cock hang between her shapely thighs. “It’s funny. Everyone has had the same reaction so far. At least, until I fuck them…”

“If you think I’m gonna bunk-up with you just cause you’ve got me tied up, then you’ve got another thing coming!” Tracer continued to stare at the impressive blue length with a mixture of fear and amazement.

“Aw,” Widowmaker pretended to pout, “but it doesn’t matter what Tracer wants. I want to know—what does Lena desire?” the French woman maintained eye contact with her captive as she wrapped her delicate fingers around her thick cock and lightly stroked it, causing it to harden.

“St-stop calling me by my name. You don’t know me at all! You’re just a mercenary… a-and a freak!” Tracer pulled against the rope again, causing herself to sway for a moment until she was able to stop herself with the tips of shoes scraping against the concrete again.

“Oh?” Widowmaker grinned. “I know more than enough about you, Lena Oxton. I know Tracer seems very happy with Emily.”

“Don’t you dare mutter her name!” Tracer growled as she let her anger finally get the best of her. As if on cue, her chronal accelerator powered back on, bathing the small area in blue light. The captive flashed a smug grin at Widowmaker before activating the device. The recall happened with a flash, illuminating the entire room in light and causing the assassin to shield her eyes for a moment. As the French woman looked upon her prey, she was still tied up in exactly the same spot.

“Wh-what?” Tracer was confused as she fired up the device again, causing another, longer burst of light, only to end up in the exact same position with her wrists still bound over her head. “I… I don’t understand…”

“How long can your little toy rewind you? And, how long do you think you’ve been hanging there?” The Talon agent smirked as she finally stepped forward. Her fingers played over the metal once again. Pulling out an inconspicuous device, she placed it against the accelerator and it locked in place with a magnet. “I would love to take the time to seduce you and build up the suspense as I slowly undress you, but with your little power you would surely escape. The others were so fun.” She sighed. “The engineer? Magnifique! She whined and begged because she was a virgin. But…! Then she begged for other reasons. I’m sure you can imagine.”

“You’re fuckin’ radio rental!” Tracer hatefully glared as she heard Brigette, that cute and eager girl, had been used and abused by this assassin.

Widowmaker curiously arched a brow and sighed. “I can’t wait to train that ridiculous slang out of your vocabulary. But, I will have to be satisfied with what I can do right now.” 

She finally clicked a button on the magnetic device. Nothing happened at first, but then the chronal accelerator fired up on its own. The blue light flickered and Tracer screamed as the unknown effects enveloped her. As Tracer opened her eyes, she felt a sudden breeze on her skin and pressure on her wrists. She looked at the assassin in front of her, and how the woman’s lingering gaze was so intently focused—not to mention how that thick, blue cock seemed noticeably harder now.

Finally looking down, the captive girl gasped and squirmed with the necessity to cover her naked body. Her uniform was crumpled on the ground with the accelerator itself right next to it. Without her shoes, it was practically impossible for her toes to touch the concrete floor, leaving her slowly swaying back and forth as she felt so much pressure on her wrists.

“Simply amazing, ma chérie,” Widowmaker smiled as she pushed the woman’s gear to the side and out of reach. The assassin knew that Tracer didn’t need to be wearing the accelerator—it just needed to be close by to keep her stable. She placed her cold hand against Tracer’s side, garnering a yelp of surprise as the English girl tried to squirm away.

“Wh-what did you do to me?” Tracer whined while her cheeks burned brightly with humiliation.

“That? A simple translocation device. It only works on non-organic material, though. I’m glad you’re all natural,” Widowmaker cruelly chuckled. “La vache, that could have gotten messy otherwise, no? But look at you. So hot and baisable…”

“Y-you disgust me!” Tracer continued to wiggle about, even as the mercenary’s cold fingers continued to caress and lightly tickle her exposed sides.

“If you play nice then I’ll release your friends,” Widowmaker smirked.

Lena blinked. There was no way it would be that easy. “Y-you’re lying.”

“Maybe,” Widow shrugged. “But what if you could save them all? You’d be the hero. And all you had to do was humor me for a moment.”

The brunette grimaced, but looked away as she nodded. “F-fine. You’re release all of them if I cooperate?”

“Of course. I would never do anything to upset ma chérie!” Widow grinned as she leaned in close, staring directly into the other woman’s eyes. Her fingers traced along Lena’s jawline before resting her hand against the side of her neck. The other hand slid behind the English girl’s head, pushing into her hair before she held her in place. Before Tracer could offer any resistance, the assassin’s plush, blue lips mashed against hers. Widow closed her eyes as she deepened the kiss, opening her mouth and pressing her tongue into the startled girl’s mouth.

Tracer gasped, but bound as she was, there was little she could do to fight back. As Widow’s tongue swirled around her mouth, Lena’s wide eyes soon closed as well as she hesitantly pushed her tongue back against her assailant’s. The Talon agent’s mouth tasted of strawberries, making Tracer’s experience that much more confusing. It wasn’t near as bad as it originally seemed, and the way the blue-skinned woman sucked on her tongue and bottom lip while she moaned into the kiss was almost enough to make Lena forget that she didn’t want this. Widow finally pulled away, nipping at the brunette’s lower lip and leaving her gasping for air. Tracer’s eyes flickered open and she felt the heat of shame rushing over her chest and face.

“Are you ready to save your friends?” Widow grinned as her fingers traced from Lena’s neck, teasing over the girl’s hard nipples before stopping at her hips.

Tracer blinked. She couldn’t believe she would trust such a vile woman, but she nodded. It was still against her will—at least, that’s what she told herself. She breathed with anxiety, knowing this was for all the right reasons. She would save her friends. It was just sex with the woman she utterly despised. Lena glanced down at the thick, blue cock and spread her legs, even as the pressure on her wrists increased.

“So eager to please. That’s what I like to see,” Widow stepped closer, pushing her cock between Tracer’s legs so that it playfully rubbed against her pussy but didn’t penetrate. The English woman gasped as it slid back and forth against her dripping folds. “After I take you, ma chérie, I’m going to keep fucking you until I knock you up.”

Lena blinked. That certainly hadn’t been part of her plan. “What?” she instinctively asked, having very clearly heard the statement.

The French woman pushed herself against Tracer as she leaned in and nuzzled her nose against the girl’s neck. Her hands moved to Lena’s pert ass, squeezing as she lifted her up. It was just enough motion for her hard cock to push against Tracer’s pussy, provoking a shocked gasp as the thick head threatened entry.

Widow nibbled the brunette’s earlobe before whispering. “You heard me. Once I get you home, I’m going to pound your little pussy until you’re overflowing with my special crème. Does that excite you, Lena? I bet you’ve always dreamed of being fucked so hard that you can hardly walk afterward. I can do things to you that Emily never could,” she taunted.

Tracer gasped as she was lifted up, finally relieving some of the pressure on her wrists. Feeling Widow gripping her ass, she wrapped her legs around the assassin’s waist. It was simply to stabilize herself—certainly not because she was enjoying this. Even as the tip of the French woman’s cock pushed against her dripping pussy, Tracer whimpered and told herself she didn’t want this. She wasn’t sure if Widow thrust her hips up or if gravity was working against her, but more of that big, blue dick pushed into Tracer’s pussy. Her thighs tightened around the assassin’s hips as more of that length penetrated her, stretching her and sending a tingling sensation up and down her spine.

The English girl was glad the assassin couldn’t see the confused mix of surprise and pleasure on her face as she tried to process what was happening to her. There was no way this felt so good. This was just to save her friends. Nothing more. Tracer certainly wasn’t enjoying the thick warmth inside of her and the way her pussy involuntarily clenched around it. This was her sacrifice, a hero’s noble choice that would save Overwatch.

Lena felt Widow’s fingers dig into her rear, squeezing the soft flesh as she bounced the captive girl on her cock. Tracer instantly let out a soft whimper, which she tried to mask, but to no avail. The Talon agent chuckled in her ear, grabbing her ass a bit more forcefully as she pounded the girl’s tight cunt. Her heavy balls audibly slapped against the brunette’s rear with every savage thrust.

The pilot’s toes curled and clenched against the bottoms of her feet as she locked her ankles behind Widowmaker’s back. She didn’t care about the strain on her wrists at this point as she bounced up and down. Tracer clenched her jaw as she tried to resist the ecstasy that threatened to overtake her mind. This was for the cruel assassin’s enjoyment, not her own! She wasn’t supposed to be the one cumming!

And yet, no matter how hard she tried to fight it, Lena still attempted to muffle her groans of pleasure until it was too much to endure. The moan started soft and subdued, but quickly grew into an echoing howl of bliss as she climaxed. Her cheeks burned with shame, knowing that her enemy had made her cum so hard.

“Ah, see,” Widow purred into Lena’s ear, “That is but a taste of what I can offer you. Be mine and I will give you pleasure for the rest of your life…”

Tracer still breathed heavily as she tried to calm down. The assassin barely stopped at all, still slowly rocking back and forth as she bounced the captive woman on her dick. Lena still couldn’t believe she had orgasmed so easily, but she had to admit—she wanted more. Every millimeter of her skin tingled and begged for more. Shakily, she responded, “P-please, I’m y-yours…”

It was sweet music to Widowmaker’s ears as she finally put some effort into her thrusts. The bound English woman gave a continuous and varied moan as she wildly bounced up and down on the assassin’s dick. The blue-skinned woman’s heavy balls slapped against Lena’s ass again and again, filling the small area with cries of passion and the sound of flesh hitting flesh.

Widow’s breathing quickened as she nibbled, nipped, and moaned against Tracer’s ear. Her big, blue cock throbbed and pulsed and the brunette’s mouth opened wide with shock as she realized what was about to happen. The assassin’s balls clenched as her heavy cream forcefully pumped out of her throbbing dick and splattered into Lena’s pussy. Each pulse of her genetically engineered cock sent another torrent of jizz into the woman’s cunt. The heat of Widow’s seed radiated throughout the English girl’s body, feeling like it would never end as her whole pussy was flooded. Each little thrust by the Talon agent only managed to force small gushes to spurt from Lena’s stuffed cunt.

Widow kept herself buried in her captive’s pussy as she lovingly trailed kisses from her jaw to her lips. The final kiss to her mouth was more passionate, but she stopped just shy of shoving her tongue into the girl’s mouth again. After all, she didn’t have much time left. Pulling away, she looked into Tracer’s eyes and a wide smirk played over her lips. “I will free them, as per our agreement…”

There was a spike of joy in Tracer’s heart as she looked into Widowmaker’s eyes. “R-really?”

“Of course. I am a woman of my word, but…” she trailed off, her grin becoming more wicked, “They were already free. Once I filled them with my crème they no longer wished to leave me. Just. Like. You.” Widow nuzzled her nose against Tracer’s.

Stunned and confused, Lena slowly shook her head. “Widowmaker, you… you are mental! It… It won’t work on me!” She defiantly stated.

“Ah, don’t be so formal with the codenames. I call you Lena, then you may call me Amèlie. Besides, I think it’s already in effect, no?” the Talon agent smirked, giving the English girl another soft kiss on the lips.

Tracer stared and gently shook her head in disbelief. Her eyes were already changing color as a swirl of pink was added to her normally light brown eyes. Lena’s expression softened as the pink became darker, eventually ending in a deep purple hue. She looked hopelessly lovestruck as she stared into Widowmaker’s eyes.

“Of course, Amèlie, my love,” Tracer said as she leaned forward, enthusiastically kissing Widow on the lips.

Satisfied with her work, the assassin withdrew from Lena’s pussy, allowing the copious amount of cum to dribble down her inner thighs as she hung there. Finally lowering her to the ground, Widow untied the steel rope and brought Tracer’s wrists to her mouth, placing soft regretful kisses to the marks left by the bondage. Gathering her own gear and just the chronal accelerator, the blue-skinned woman swept Tracer up in both arms, carrying the naked, infatuated pilot out of the room as they lustfully gazed into each other’s eyes.

Tracer’s orange jumpsuit sat crumpled and abandoned upon the floor. After all, she would never need it again…

**Author's Note:**

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